The Specimen
by AmArAnThInE-ImAgInE
Summary: In the white walls of a military istalation, half-bred creatures dwell and live out the climax of their lives. Set in an Alternate Universe, just to warn you lovable purests.
1. Default Chapter

Prologue: Feral Delusions of a Wanted Innocent

Ahead was the darkness of his desires and behind, some horror approached. Slashing his way through the undergrowth, he could hear that creature overhead. Thump-thump! Thump-thump! Its call forced him forward, his feet flying beyond his terrified mind.

Thump-thump! Thump-thump! His blood-red eyes lost all sight as some blazing light struck him. A tortured roar rose from his form. His fragmented mind could make sense of none of this. He couldn't see, but he could smell them coming, anesthesia in hand. He shouldn't be here.

Darkness relieved his eyes as he leaped through the bracken once again. Thump-thump! Thump-thump! The creature was calling again and his pulse was racing. Sweat drenched his long white hair and stung his eyes. He was so hot, too hot and if his blood didn't cool soon, he might die.

Thump-thump! Thump-thump! The creature pressed him on.

He had to keep going. He had no choice about that. If he stopped, he would probably be killed or eaten. Like every other animal on the planet, he knew that was a bad thing. The smell of blood filled his nostrils and for a time he was confused. He hadn't been injured, had he? No, no, his body was too strong for that kind of nonsense. But the smell persisted, and dripped down his chin.

The undergrowth was thinning out as the forest around him progressed in age. Somewhere in this forest was the place he had called home since birth. But the blood seeping from his nose foiled his sense of smell. Growing in despair, he turned this way and that. Exhaustion and bodily fatigue had robbed him of his sense of smell, and his way home.

The creature that had followed him lagged behind, its soft thumping being smothered by the thick canopy. He'd lost it; no horrible death would befall him. In a moment, all his muscles relaxed. Warm flesh met leaf litter warmed by rot. Red eyes flashed about to be sure that no one was watching him. Welcome sleep began to claim him; haziness surged onto the edges of his vision.

Sight and smell were dead to him, but his ears twitched with the baying of hounds. In an instant, animalist instincts shook him awake. He sat up straight, red eyes shifting through his environment, searching for a sure target. There was nothing left for him to do but fight. Their dogs had caught the scent of his blood and their masters weren't far behind them.

The baying grew louder and came at him from his right. A simple plan came into his primal mind. He wallowed in the ground, wiping his nose on the leaves and leaving a patch of his scent. There wasn't much energy in him. His legs bunched with his last command to their failing state. Just one more jump. It was his dead end plan.

Across the clearing, the hounds and handlers came in musical bays. They poured over the spot where he had previously lain and hovered for several moments, thinking this the end of the trail. But their masters were not pleased. He had left the hounds confused and that was just peachy to him. It wouldn't be long until they picked up the landing of his latest bound, so he had to make this count.

His howl ripped the air in half as his claws made quick work of the people before him. All had to die for him to survive. Scream after scream came, filling him with hollow triumph. The opponents died but he wasn't winning. One after another they came after him and blood, sweat, fatigue were taking equal parts out of him.

His vision began to fail and cool hands grabbed onto his flailing arms. There was nothing left to power the incredible muscular strength past to him by his father. So there in a slump of red cloth and silver hair, he ceased his struggle and resigned his mind to black nothingness.


	2. Strangers in a Sterile World

Chapter One: Strangers in a Sterile World

"How many casualties with this one?" Onigumo Naraku would have rubbed his temples in stress and disgust if this employee hadn't been in the room. What weakness hadn't been beaten out of him in his long military career would not be privy to anyone else.

"Three ambushers were injured when S3 retreated initially," Dr. Sango Hirakos looked down at her clipboard, "One officer broke his leg in pursuit-"

"Incompetence."

"-and five were injured upon capture. Three fatally. He killed ten operatives and thirteen scent dogs there also."

Her superior's hand brushed it off with the air of someone used to casualties, and to causing them. "With the exception of that bumbling officer, I can safely assume no one important was lost?"

"No, sir. Only privates, sir." She had to look down at her feet to keep him from seeing her fury at his apathy.

"As expected. Now," Naraku leaned forward with something that faintly resembled interest on his face, "what is the condition of S3?" The room filled with silence, except for their breath and the young doctor shuffling through papers.

"S3 of Expedition 173 is currently in the infirmary from extreme exhaustion, blood loss, dehydration, and subsequent hypernatemia. Given his background, he should be back to normal status within 24 hours." Sango closed the file, knowing that was all that Naraku would listen for. He always seemed to have selective hearing, only listening for the information he wanted.

Naraku stood up behind his massive desk and walked over to the couch, an obvious sign that she was soon to be dismissed. If all went well, she wouldn't be standing here like some servant until the end of Expedition 173.

"The expedition will continue on then. Get whatever men you need through Colonel Manten, he's already very much aware his battalion is fodder," a smirk graced his lips, "You are dismissed, Dr. Hirakos."

A moment later, the very relieved doctor was heading down to the infirmary. As she walked, she opened the file of S1, who was to be released into a holding cell for study. From the immediate data Sango had, juvenile female with many years left till sexual maturity. No one was yet sure of what she was capable of, but they hadn't had any trouble during capture. Upon capture, her mother, a human, was killed.

"Mindless murderers." As far as Sango could see up the chain of command, which wasn't really that far, Onigumo Naraku was the murderer. He was anything but mindless though. Sango knew the mother's death was a hush job. She had been grateful that both S2 and S3 had been alone.

The infirmary was well armed now. All in an attempt to save their hides from one terrified little girl. Dwelling no more on the military's insecurity and apathy, Sango plastered a very friendly smile on her face. No matter what species, the girl was, after all, just a little girl.

The scattered physicians inside the observation room glanced up as she entered. Some of the younger and less experienced ones even bothered donning a sympathetic smile. They all knew where this sacrificial lamb had just come from. Not bothering to look into the several walls of bulletproof glass and one-way mirrors, she approached a technician. "Is S1 okay for transfer?"

"Fine, ma'am." The disenchanted technician replied. Sounding this bored over the subject of a young half-demon could only come from sixteen or more expeditions. Most of which yielded a hand-full of these "rare" creatures.

The wall suddenly held much interest to Dr. Hirakos. Eyes gazing distantly she stared for several moments before commanding that Dr. Ayumi Amano see her immediately.

"You called?" Ayumi enjoyed romanticizing everything, turning it into some dramatic venture. Lately, she had been reading every femme fatale novel in the history of mankind, so the coyish phrase seemed absolutely natural to her. So did leaning on the doorframe, which sagged with her weight and rot. Ignoring the slow destruction of the infirmary doorframe, Sango introduced her inquiry.

"I understand that no specimen is to leave the holding rooms assigned to it?"

Suddenly, Dr. Amano stood up straight and nodded with overzealous agreement. Dr. Hirakos knew that her opinion was less than professional for some of the younger, more human, male specimens.

"Do you agree with this policy, Dr. Amano?" Looking for the all the world like a deer caught in headlights, she answered affirmative. Sango's next words could be considered treasonous. Walking towards Ayumi, she pulled the young doctor into a secluded interview room and closed the doors.

Sango sighed with the knowledge that she was safe behind them. But when she turned back towards her associate, all she saw was a confused little girl.

"You really agree with the policy?" The girl ventured a nod. Dr. Hirakos realized she had barely spoken a word this entire time.

"There's no need to be scared. Just tell me the truth." Here gaze fell on the adjoining holding room where S2 would later be observed, "Even if you've been asking S2 to your bedside and you don't want to disagree with the policy so no one will get suspicious-"

"No! It's not like that! I j…" The look of fear was back on her face. Sango chuckled at the inexperience of youth. It was a good thing that Ayumi hadn't met Colonel Naraku.

"Look, I don't care what you and any of the male half-demons do. I just want to know if you agree with me that the policy should be eighty-sixed."

"Won't the Colonel have objections? No offense, Sango, but he's not exactly fond of you. Not after Expedition 130." Just the mention of that attempted revolt instigated a burst of pain in her back. The all-knowing Onigumo Naraku had out-witted her and her little group and destroyed them. Only the most valuable members to the project had been left alive and the new recruits were thoroughly beaten into submission. Naraku had had hard words and an even harder bayonet to punish her.

"Not after Expedition 130." Sango mumbled darkly to herself. To the doctor she said, "S1 is to be released into her holding rooms today, but the official route to those rooms looks like a cattle run. She'll have no explanation until she arrives in the room, so try and sympathize, Amano."

"I know. The older ones can handle it, but these children…" Ayumi gazed to the side with sympathy.

"Her assigned nurse is strict, but a mother herself, so she could probably be persuaded to let us bring her through more civil methods. The janitorial hallways are kind of dank, but if we go with her, it should make up for the lack of accoutrements."

"Sango, you're brilliant. Naraku couldn't kill you, he proved that with 130, but I have half the experience you do." Ayumi added as much stress and emotion to her words as she could. She felt sorry for S1, but this was her own life here. "So…I'm not really certain this is such a good idea."

"You were a good little kid, weren't you?"

Sarcastic smile found here, "Absolutely. I was the best child my parents could wish for."

Somewhere, deep within Dr. Hirakos' mind, a biological clock chided her. This was a baby and she was a woman, what else could her duty be but to play mommy? As the irritated echoes of the maternal nature that every woman shares bounced around, Sango's rational thought kicked in and silenced it. She had no support. Even last time, with support, Colonel Naraku had anticipated everything. Her heart sunk down into the pit of her stomach and utter despair seeped into her. She couldn't deal with this right now.

"Ayumi?" The younger woman looked up in concern at Sango's suddenly meager voice.

"Yes, Sango?"

"Can you take care of the protocol," Sango stressed that her plan would not be taken into effect, "-transfer of S1, the bat half-demon girl?"

"Of, course, Dr. Hirakos."

With that, Sango trudged down the hall, towards her quarters, and towards the bottled amnesia that a lecherous janitor had given her.

Before the hairlessness of her head or the people beyond the weird mirror could push her further down into her reverie, Shiori reached down and played with her hemline. Foremost on her mind was her mother. She hadn't seen her since coming to this strange place. Didn't these people know that her mother was hurt? That her mother needed her by her side? Shiori's own injuries had been bad enough, but her mother had resisted and was probably worse off.

Unfortunately for the confused little girl, there was no one for her to question. Surrounded by whirring machines and strange, human-like creatures with baggy white skin, she'd initially tried to talk to the figures behind the mirror. Only silence greeted her and she soon fell to the role of a mute.

These past few hours, however, brought a flurry of activity from those shadowy figures and the baggy-skinned creatures that were their slaves. She'd been corralled into a white room that connected to a twisted hallway via a cast iron gate. Where it went, she couldn't see, and its turns were so complex that any echolocation told her nothing. She wanted to see her mother now more than anything.

The cast-iron gates began to squeal as cold machines wheeled them open and behind her the Baggy-Skins approached threateningly. Fear and instinct took over her and the little batgirl ran for the hall.

White wall and white light flooded his senses. His head was killing him and his body didn't feel much better. Despite this, the injured half-demon was regaining his cognitive senses. From the left of his head, he heard an annoying buzzing, like several wasps in harmony. As the left ear, however, swiveled toward the sound, it got something more than any wasp could deliver. He yelped sharply as the buzzing thing bit off some of his ear.

"Sorry about that." A woman was making that buzzing noise? And bit him? Oh, he had to see this.

Turning his aching head was hard, but the half-demon achieved that stunt with a sort of twitching action. It appeared to him as though some contraption in her hand had been the one to bite him. As well as eating off his hair. That would explain the draft. The woman before him really didn't look like she could harm anything, especially eating off a bit of dog-ear.

So here he lay, tied to a bed and at the mercy of some young witch with a flesh-eating contraption. Inside, he trembled like a little pup. Outside, however, he was true to his testosterone-induced nature and snarled at her.

At least she got the message. With a less then subtle glare, the girl got ready to leave.

"Better get used to me. You should know I'll be taking care of you for a while." She was truly trying to intimidate him shortly before retreating out the doorway. He snorted at the weak wench before turning to the tedious task of piecing together just what had happened prior to his imprisonment.

Darkness was found in his memories shortly after that flying thing took chase, and from that darkness, nothing was revealed. It wasn't long before he fell asleep, drowsy for the white ceiling.


End file.
